


Our Get Along Sweater is Pulling Apart by the Seams

by DragonDetective



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Gen, i dont know what to tag this usually i do emotions but now theyre like doing shit? damn, idk they shoot stuff. uh.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonDetective/pseuds/DragonDetective
Summary: What if running through the portal in Opposing Force after Gordon didn't cause a paradox?...Gordon and Adrian trek through Xen together, begrudgingly, to defeat the Nihalinth and maybe find a way home. Maybe. They can keep telling themselves that's what they're doing together, at least.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	Our Get Along Sweater is Pulling Apart by the Seams

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!!! i started another half life fic BUT i have no intentions of abandoning my other one! i wanted to write this one before i wanted to write that one even!
> 
> so, if you didnt know, adrian shephard is my favorite hl1 protag. ive wanted to write something with him for a while and i had this idea when i got told about the paradox, about writing what would happen if adrian wasn't sent straight back into black mesa. so. guess what gamers!
> 
> im also using half life one's xen, because it's fucking ugly nasty, and i can rework it as much as i please. additionally, why would the boys know what the aliens are called?... gordon might after questionable ethics but.... (: if u need help figuring out what alien is what name lmk ill hit yall up
> 
> ok tysm for clicking hope u enjoy!

Another long, useless hallway. Adrian sighs, reloading his gun. At least it was clear- for now. He slings it back over his back, gripping his switchblade instead. More comfortable that way; he’d have to take a break at some point. This was hell. Loud, irritating, lonesome, neverending hell. Every noise made him jump, every spot of graffiti made him homesick. Bullshit, all of this was bullshit. Fuck Black Mesa. Fuck his troop for leaving him; fuck whoever made this mess. Screw that one weird g-man in the suit, watching him… Closing the hangar right before the chopper. Opening that door before drowning in radioactive waste. There was no way he was unrelated, Adrian was sure of it. Seeing him around the base before this even… He was always weird, always watching. Never did he think he would be so involved in such a fucking mess, though.

He sighs, gently scratching at his gas mask. It was a good texture, he’d become so acquainted to it he felt weird without it. He’d have to take it off to sleep, if he ever got the chance to sleep. If he was ever able to sleep again. A comforting texture though, a comforting weight. Safe.

He carries on, reaching a large door. Ah. This was probably a cargo hall, moving shit back and forth. Secure door, button pad right next to it… There’s graffiti on the world. Misspelled. He only sighs; he’d kill to be given shit for carrying a diary around again. Any kind of interaction from any kind of person again.

Approaching the keypad, there’s yelling. Something… Gordon? … Teleporter? What the fuck? He quickly punches in a few buttons; it’d taken a bit of trial and error early on, but most security systems were pretty easy to navigate now. The door begins to crack open, there’s some weird- machine? A flash of green, an orange orb in the middle? What the hell-

That was Freeman. Gordon Freeman. Running toward the- portal? A scientist was telling him to hurry, to jump through, that’d it’d close soon.

Adrian vaults over the rest of the door as it slowly opens and sprints with all his might toward Freeman, following straight after him. Nothing fucking mattered anymore, Freeman had been the root of so many of his problems at this point. Being part of this whole fucking mess, distracting the military from the task at hand, evading them, reducing their numbers. He was one fucking man. How had he gotten so far? This was it- the end of all of that. Adrian was going to make damn sure of it. 

There was a flash of green as Adrian launched at Gordon and they both crossed into the portal, but Adrian still managed on top. They landed and slid a small ways, close to the edge of this- tiny-

“Gordon Freeman!” Adrian shouts, though he’s close and sure that Freeman can hear him plenty well. There’s nothing else _for_ him to hear. Adrian pants and holds his switchblade to his throat, staring down at him, pinning him down with his own weight. 

“You- you’ve ruined my god damn life, you know that? But this isn’t about me.” Adrian’s volume lowers, doing his best to keep his voice steady. Gordon only rolls his eyes and tries to worm his arms out from beneath him. “This- stop fucking around! I- Do you have anything to say for yourself?! For- this fucking mess?” 

Gordon only tries to move his arms again, but ends up sighing. He says something- no, mouths… What?

“I… Repeat that.”

Gordon shakes his head and tries again. ‘I’m mute and I can hardly hear you.’

Adrian stares at him for a second before he nods. He sets his switchblade to the side, but is sure not to let Gordon up. “Do you know ASL?” Adrian signs, but it’s rusty. He only used it at home, with Mitchell. In boot camp it was all morse or vague signs that equated to nothing in truth. And even then, that was only when things got bad. He could talk alright usually, he was getting better about it. Or, if he rehearsed what he wanted to say time and time again. He had rehearsed for Freeman, he had been ready for Freeman, running on adrenaline and adrenaline alone to keep himself afloat. It was starting to wane, and he hadn’t even considered Freeman might not be able to hear him.

Freeman nods. Adrian does too. He’s not sure what to do. Looking around, he can really take in the scene now. They are on a floating piece of land, or- Adrian assumes it’s floating. There are others around that are floating too, and none of them are very big. The one they’re on is not very big. In the center there’s a large piece of land. It’s small, but… Large comparatively. It also seems supported by nothing, just out in the open. Some spires come up off of it. Some spires come up off the smaller chunks too. They’re in the middle of nowhere- in the middle of space? There’s no stars, only a muddied sky with some streaks of light. The ground is nasty, and touching it, actually taking it in, feels sponge-y and- gross. Bad. But it doesn’t give into the weight of Adrian’s hands or knees. There’s no portal anywhere in sight, either. 

“Where are…” Adrian whispers to himself before turning back to Freeman. He looks bored. 

‘Will you get off me now?’ He mouths, trying his arms again. Adrian takes his switchblade and puts it away, sheathed at his belt. 

“I can’t trust you after what you’ve done.” Adrian signs. Gordon only rolls his head to the side, exhausted. 

‘Give me my arms.’

Adrian bites his lip, there’s… What was he to lose? No idea where he was… Freeman might at least have a clue. “Fine,” he mutters, shifting his weight to let one of Freeman’s arms up- the right one. He could sign one handed or fingerspell if he had to now. No way was Adrian giving him both his arms back now. 

“Where are we?”

“Xen. Alien boarderworld.”

“How do we go back?”

Gordon looks at Adrian with what he swears might be sympathy, before turning his head to look out over the scenery. It’s ugly. There’s nothing pretty to see, but it’s fascinating in it’s own way. He looks back. “Might not be able to.”

Adrian nods, it’s his turn to look out and stare. This was it? An empty, gross alien landscape, some motherfucker who’d ruined his family both made and God given, and… Nothing more?

Gordon tries to get up again. Adrian turns to attention.

“I won’t kill you if you let me up. We’re both stuck here.”

Adrian nods, blankly. God, was he really going to…? Whatever. He scoots back off the man, pushing himself up onto his feet and stepping away from him. 

“You said might.” Adrian signs when Gordon’s finished his own look around to take in the scene proper. Gordon shrugs and nods.

“There’s no escape plan. Something might come up. I don’t want to lie and say something will. I don’t want to be depressing and say something won’t.” 

Adrian nods, rubbing his hands on his mask. Oh boy. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Stopping the aliens. Why did you follow?”

Adrian doesn’t answer, just puts a hand on the big spike coming out of the ground. It’s ribbed in texture, but it’s large enough that it doesn’t hurt to touch. Only feels weird. Kind of warm, but not in a comforting way. He leans against it and looks out to the next closest piece of land. He hears Gordon sigh. 

Gordon launches himself off their small rock onto the next one, landing heavy, but reacting fine to the different gravity. He regards the… lifeless HEV suit next to him before moving down and doing… Something. Unplugging stuff, taking things. Adrian couldn’t guess what. Gordon looks back to Adrian before turning around and jumping down to the third. There’s a flash of green and one of the grey ones shows up, with the claw in its chest. Red eyes. Adrian hears the echo of a Singer and steps away from the spire to give an experimental jump. The gravity’s weird, but-

Another electric shock of more grey guys, Adrian launches himself onto the second platform. He doesn’t land near as gracefully as Gordon did, rolling a bit, but shrugging it off quick. He can aim from here.

-

With the aliens gone, Gordon lets his crowbar hang at his side in his arm. He looks up to- the dude, gives him a short wave. What the hell was he doing? Was he following? Ugh...

Gordon watches out over the sky. There’s more jumps, things are moving. The ground thuds as, whoever the bootboy was, jumps down next to him and topples over onto his ass.

He turns to face him.

“What’s your name?” Gordon signs firmly.

“Corporal Adrian Shephard,” he both speaks and finger spells it out, but Black Mesa’s been a hell of a loud trip, if it’s not blaring loud Gordon can’t hear much of anything.

“Shephard, are you coming with me or not? You have firepower. I know how to land. Might be useful for us both to try to stop these guys.”

Adrian looks over to the Houndeye, bashed in with Gordon’s crowbar. He turns to Gordon. “Even these?”

“The Houndeyes are nice until you scare them.”

“I know.”

Ah. Gordon looks away for a moment, sighs. Turns back. The corporal is still waiting for an answer. “Self defence.”

He sighs, patting it’s corpse gently before rising to his full height again. “I have to help. I don’t have a suit. Tell me how to get down there.”


End file.
